


Under New Management

by RogueTranslator



Series: 15x20 Didn't Happen. This is What Happens Next. [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Archangel Castiel (Supernatural), Canon Universe, Castiel Lives (Supernatural), Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Character Study, Dean Winchester Lives, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It, Gen, Guilt, Heaven, Hopeful Ending, Jack Kline as God, Jealous Jack Kline, Light Angst, Mother-Son Relationship, Post-Canon, Resurrection, Reunions, Sam Winchester Lives, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Self-Reflection, The finale is not canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29851230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueTranslator/pseuds/RogueTranslator
Summary: Jack did the easy part.He rescued his dad from the Empty and brought along a whole host of other angels to boot. He came to an understanding with Amara and earned her respect. He set about reordering Heaven and settling disputes between the different afterlives. He established a new ethos of noninterference that would minimize unintended consequences and maximize free will.Now he has to live with himself.That’s the hard part.
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Implied Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester - Relationship, Implied Gabriel/Rowena MacLeod, Implied Michael/Adam Milligan - Relationship, Jack Kline & Kelly Kline
Series: 15x20 Didn't Happen. This is What Happens Next. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031529
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Under New Management

“Well, here we are.” Jack crossed his arms and grinned. “Humans call these the pearly gates. I never got to see them the last time I visited.”

At his side, Amara swirled from a plume of black smoke into corporeality. She looked around impassively.

“Oh. Aunt Amara? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t feel like being contained within you any longer. It felt a little…inappropriate. Given the age difference.”

“Huh?”

“Still settling into the omniscience thing, I see.” An angel hailed them from a distant guard post, and Amara waved back gingerly. “Well, you’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

“Wait. You’re going to help me, right?”

“Me?” Amara scoffed. “No, grandnephew. There’s balance in the cosmos now. That’s all I wanted. Measuring drapes and ordering new furniture for this place? That’s up to you.”

“But…what are you going to do, then?”

Amara shrugged. “Whatever I feel like. I think my room in Reno’s still paid up through the end of the year. Or maybe I’ll visit Japan. I keep meaning to try reiki. And…I suppose I should make sure my brother’s okay, eventually. He brought all this on himself, but he’s family.”

“Uh. Well, speaking of family, can you at least help me get Castiel out of the Empty before you go?”

“Help you? Just snap your fingers and do it. The Empty can’t stand up to you.”

“I’m still getting used to all this power.” Jack rocked forward and back on the balls of his feet as he spoke. “If I get into a fight with the Empty and lose, that risks the entire universe.”

“Oh, fine.” Amara held out her hands. “Let’s get this over with, then. I’ll distract it while you grab your father.”

* * *

Two hours later, they landed in the Garden of Heaven, Jack cradling Castiel’s battered form in his arms. He laid him down gently in the grass of the clearing and immediately set to work healing him.

“His grace is weak. Barely present.” Jack’s palms emanated light, and he closed his eyes to concentrate. “This will take a while to fix.”

“What took you so long in there? I had to pretend to listen to that windbag drone on until I was half-wishing for eternal sleep myself.”

“The people in there aren’t sleeping. They’re being tormented.” Jack sighed. “I couldn’t find Cass; the Entity hid him too well. While I searched, angel after angel came up to me, begging for rescue. I was delayed.”

“People will walk all over you if you’re too nice. Take it from someone who knows.”

“I’ll remember that. Anyway, I brought back a few of them. The ones who helped my dad in the past. I figure they’ll be useful with fixing up Heaven. Plus, some of them deserved better than they got.”

“Is this your plan?” Amara paced to the edge of the clearing, then halfway back again. “Righting every one of my brother’s wrongs? That sounds exhausting.”

Jack shook his head at Castiel’s body as he focused on restoring his grace, particle by particle.

“No. I could try, but I might make mistakes. I might fix some things, but mess other things up more. I might accidentally put myself into the story of the world. Maybe that’s even how Chuck started out.”

Amara peered at him. “You’re wiser than you look. Maybe the universe isn’t screwed after all.”

Jack smiled at Castiel’s slumbering visage. He moved down from his crouch to sit cross-legged in the sweet-smelling grass. He was settling in for the long haul.

“What I know, I learned from my dad. Cass, not Lucifer. And my mom. And Sam and Dean. Things won’t be perfect, but they’ll be better. That’s what I can promise.”

“See?” The black smoke rose around Amara again. “I told you you’d get the hang of it.”

Before Jack could reply, she was gone.

* * *

It took five days to resurrect Castiel. Jack sat vigil for most of the hours of each day, mending the torn fabric of his father’s being, weaving in the threads of his own power that would transform him into an archangel. It was the only way he could be sure that something like this wouldn’t happen again.

“An archangel can be killed by only a few things,” Michael said, when Jack asked him on the first night. “God. The Darkness. Death’s Scythe, though that cause would first have to be written in the archangel’s book, presumably.”

“Who is the current Death?”

Michael checked his list. “ _Sede vacante_.”

“I don’t see why Death needs a weapon at all. The ring should be enough. It’s a bureaucrat, not a combatant.” Jack snapped his fingers. “We’ll try a pacifist Death next. The last one’s actions were what forced Cass to sacrifice himself.”

“No scythe, no problem,” Gabriel piped up, from where he was lounging at the edge of the clearing.

“There are a few other methods,” Michael continued. “Several of which are no longer functional. For instance, with Amara freed from the cage, the First Blade is inert. And my lance was destroyed by the demon, Crowley. That leaves archangel blades, but only when wielded by an archangel.”

“You demoted us,” Gabriel said. “No hard feelings, by the way. But only one archangel means there’s no one else to wield an archangel blade against your pops. Unless Cassie feels like turning violence on himself, he should be free and clear.”

“Good.” Jack returned his attention to Castiel’s body, his hands glowing in preparation. “I’ll proceed, then.”

The glade was quiet for a while—just the chirping of crickets and the occasional hooting of barred owls. The moonlight washed Castiel’s face in faded alabaster light.

“I…wanted to thank you again, nephew.” Michael shifted his weight from leg to leg uneasily. “After my ill-considered betrayal, I don’t deserve another chance. Yet you’ve shown me mercy.”

“I didn’t do it for you. I brought you back so that Adam wouldn’t be alone. When his own brothers forgot about him in Hell, he still had you. He deserves better than to be left with nothing and no one.”

“He does. Perhaps he deserves better than me.”

“Since when do we get what we deserve?” Jack smiled up at him wistfully. “Go now. He’s waiting for you. Return at dawn, and we’ll continue our work.”

Michael nodded once before flying off. Gabriel cleared his throat.

“Yes?” Jack said.

“No, nothing. Just getting used to all the pollen in the air here again.”

“You can go, too.” Jack closed his eyes, surging the energy from his hands down to Castiel’s wings. “I’m sure there’re people you want to catch up with.”

“Come to think of it—” Gabriel chuckled. “I heard around the water cooler that my favorite ginger’s in charge of Hell. Hopefully that doesn’t mean she’s too good for me now.”

Jack shrugged.

“On the other hand, I could zap down to the bunker while the boys are asleep and switch out all of Sam’s meat replacement products with actual meat. It’ll be like the good old days.”

“Do whatever you like. As long as you remember the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah. No interfering with normal humans, Scout’s honor.” Gabriel clambered up, dusted himself off. “You know, you’ve got a lot of rules for a young guy.”

“Do you object to any of them?” Jack said evenly.

“No, not at all. It’s just…a lot to put on yourself. I hope you don’t miss out on the chance to be a kid. You deserve that.”

Gabriel flew away. Alone in the clearing again, Jack redoubled his efforts to repair his father. He had so many questions that only he could answer.

* * *

“He looks better,” Kelly said.

It was afternoon on the fourth day, to the extent that time in Heaven moved in any way with which Jack was familiar. Kelly was sitting in the clearing with Jack, on the other side of Castiel’s vessel, holding his left hand in both of hers.

“I agree.” Jack lay his palm over Castiel’s heart and grinned. “I can’t wait to hug him again.”

“Do you think he’ll be surprised to see you?”

“Yes,” Jack said confidently. “He thought his deal with the Empty would be his final, permanent death. And I think….”

“What?”

“I just don’t think Cass ever believes others care about him as much as he cares about them. He doesn’t think he deserves to be saved.”

Kelly shook her head. The golden sun shimmered in her hair and glowed in her eyes.

“He’s so silly. I’m sure he knows you love him.”

“Chuck—his father. He called him ‘self-loathing.’” Jack chewed his lip. “Mom, what does that mean?”

“It means that someone doesn’t like themselves. Sometimes, it means they can’t accept themselves.”

Jack furrowed his brow. “‘Can’t accept themselves?’”

“It could be because of guilt. You know, mistakes they’ve made in their life. I know all about those.” Kelly laughed, momentarily letting go of Castiel’s hand to shift her legs underneath her. “It could be because of shame. Like when there’s something about them that other people don’t like, maybe don’t accept them for. That can make their life a lot harder.”

“Do you think—” Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you think it’s because he loves Dean, and he doesn’t know if Dean loves him back? He doesn’t know if Dean accepts him?”

“I don’t know, honey. Only Cass can answer that. You can ask him when he wakes up.”

Jack renewed his focus on knitting Castiel back together. He was nearly whole now, kept under more by Jack’s suppression of his consciousness for his own safety than his own inability to awaken. It would be less than a day, probably, until they could talk again.

“Mom?” Jack said, after a while.

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m like Cass.” Jack avoided her gaze. “Self-loathing.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I feel guilt for the things I’ve done. I’ve hurt the people I care about so much. I killed you. I killed Mary—I took Sam and Dean’s mom away from them. I’ve killed other innocent people. I didn’t deserve to have Cass give his life for me.”

“Well, he didn’t feel that way.” Kelly lay Castiel’s hand on his chest and circled around to the other side of his body, sitting down beside Jack when she arrived. “You know, parents, we love our children unconditionally.”

“Unconditionally,” Jack echoed. The light in his hands paused as he considered the word.

“That means we love you no matter what, and more than anything,” Kelly said. “Castiel did what he did because he’s your dad. You didn’t have to deserve it.”

Jack nodded. “I understand. But I still don’t think I’m a good person.”

Kelly reached forward, gathering together Castiel’s and Jack’s hands between hers. Jack’s light flared, bright and hopeful, through her fingers.

“Both of you need to work on forgiving yourselves. You need to find a way to live with the person in the mirror, and then like that person, and eventually love that person.” Kelly turned to look at him. “You know, when I was alive, I used to do this thing. Before I went to bed every night, after I brushed my teeth, I’d stare at my reflection and say, ‘I love you.’”

Jack frowned. “Why?”

“Because a lot of days, I didn’t. Probably most days. But I still said it, even when it was hard. Even when I didn’t really believe it.”

Kelly leaned into Jack’s shoulder and gave a soft sigh. Jack pressed his cheek to the crown of her head. She was warm from the sun and smelled like wildflowers.

“Did it help?” Jack said. “Did you end up believing it, I mean?”

“You know, I think I did in the end.” She rubbed the back of Jack’s hand. “You helped me believe it.”

Jack didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, he kissed Kelly’s forehead and resumed his work.

* * *

Within an hour of waking up, Castiel had already flown down to Earth to save Dean. Jack had known that would happen, of course—no omniscience required. Still, he was disappointed that his father had left his side so soon.

“Here you go, Jack.”

Jack blinked. He’d gotten lost in his thoughts again while watching the renovations. Hannah was holding out a sheaf of papers to him in both hands.

“What’s this?”

“It’s the updated census of all the souls in Heaven. The one you asked for?”

“Oh, right.” Jack leafed through it. “Sorry, I was thinking about something.”

“I’ll continue with my duties.” Hannah bowed.

“Hannah, wait. You know my father well, don’t you?”

A spark of humor danced in her eyes. “I suppose I do. How is he? Is he awake yet?”

“He is. He’s with Dean.”

Hannah snorted. “Of course he is.”

“I worry that he won’t want to come back to Heaven. I’d hoped that, if Dean were up here too, we could all be together. Now that Dean’s remaining on Earth….”

“What?”

“I don’t want him to resent having to spend time with me.”

“You’re worried you’re making him choose.”

“Yes.” Jack bit his lip.

“Well, take it from me. When it comes to Dean, don’t force a choice on your father. It may not turn out the way you want.”

“I don’t want him to choose. I just want him to see that I need him as much as Dean does.” Jack flung the census to the ground in frustration, and some angels in the distance quailed at the sudden commotion. “No, I need him more than Dean needs him. I’m running Heaven all on my own. Dean’s an adult. He had Cass to himself for so many years. I don’t know why Cass coddles him so much.”

Hannah stooped down to pick up the papers. Jack sighed.

“I’m sorry, Hannah. I think I’m throwing a tantrum.”

“Here.” Hannah pressed the census into his hands again. “Just—give him some time. I’m sure the two of you can find the right balance.”

“Balance,” Jack said thoughtfully. He remembered Amara saying something about that.

“Yes, balance between the two most important people in his life. That’s his work in progress, just like Heaven is yours.” Hannah glanced at Anna and Samandriel, who were waiting at a respectful distance. “Will that be all?”

“Oh, of course. Thank you, Hannah. I think you’re right.”

Jack watched them walk off, then looked at the census for a few minutes before his curiosity got the better of him. He peered down at Earth. In the bunker’s kitchen, Castiel and Dean were holding hands over the table. Castiel dried his face with his free hand, and then they kissed.

Jack reddened and turned away. He certainly didn’t want to think about his father and Dean doing _that_.

A moment passed before Jack’s blush turned into a grin. After Castiel had spent so many years thinking Dean didn’t love him, he deserved this. After everything the two of them had been through, saving the world over and over without an ounce of recognition, both of them did.

Heaven could wait until they’d made up for a little lost time.

* * *

“I don’t know what to tell you, darling.” Balthazar flicked the clipboard across the desk, back to Castiel. “All the souls checked out. Something must have gone wrong further down the chain. With the reapers who brought them here, or maybe Death himself.”

“I’m sure Death will appreciate you shunting the blame off on him.” Castiel rolled his eyes. “You’ve created a lot of extra work for me, Balthazar.”

Balthazar winked. “Some things never change.”

Castiel grunted in annoyance. He started going through the transfer manifest for the fifth time.

“It’s okay,” Jack said. “It doesn’t matter at this point. Let’s just move them where they need to be. They’re probably scared right now, not knowing whether they’re getting into Heaven or not.”

“And if Rowena complains?” Castiel said.

“We’ll send Gabriel down to smooth things over.” Jack shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to mind.”

“He certainly doesn’t,” Balthazar agreed. “Randy little bugger.”

“Fine.” Castiel stood up and pushed in his chair. “I’ll take care of moving the souls myself. I don’t trust you not to mess things up again.”

Balthazar scowled. “I see Dean still hasn’t managed to extract the stick lodged up your arse. Talk about a mismatch of personalities.”

Castiel huffed and flew away. Jack tsked.

“You shouldn’t tease him so much. He has a stressful job.”

“I only do it because it’s easy. We’re angels, Jack. Badgering each other is practically our only form of entertainment.”

Jack cocked his head. “Actually, now that you mention it, Sam and Dean do that a lot.”

“Siblings,” Balthazar said patly. “You don’t have any, do you? The original God did. That fact turned out to have big consequences for the universe, or so I hear.”

“No. I’m an only child.”

“Hmm.” Balthazar fiddled with one of Castiel’s pencils. “That’s too bad.”

“Too bad?”

“Sorry. I just mean—I’ve always had so many. And even when I despised some of them, even when we warred against one another, we knew each other in a way no one else could.” Balthazar’s eyes crinkled in sympathy. “You’re alone in that sense. I…can’t imagine that.”

Jack raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll return to my duties.” Balthazar inclined his head, and then he was gone.

Truthfully, Jack had wondered from time to time what it would have been like to have a brother or sister. With Castiel as his father and Sam and Dean as his two other parental figures, how could he not have? But with the world imploding at every turn since the day he was born, he’d never had a chance to stop and think about it too deeply.

Maybe Balthazar was right. Maybe he _was_ missing something.

Jack sat down in Castiel’s chair, reached for a blank sheet of paper and the pencil Balthazar had been toying with. He sketched a stick figure, then added a T-shirt, jeans, and a waving hand. He drew two other stick figures on either side—a taller one in a trench coat, a shorter one with long hair and a big smile. Finally, he added grass and flowers underneath and a shining sun overhead.

He gazed at it for a long time. Then, he opened Castiel’s desk drawer and laid it on top of his files for him to find.

* * *

Jack was in the bunker again. It was the first time he’d been here since they left on the road trip to face down Chuck. Every inch of it felt familiar, yet…lighter. Happier. Cleaner, certainly. The end of the world tended to wreak havoc with daily chores.

He was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark. It was a while past midnight, and he wasn’t surprised that everyone was in their bedrooms by this point. Eventually, he’d go to his old room and lie down too, but for now he was happy with where he was.

Then, there was a shuffling in the hallway, and the kitchen’s fluorescent lights blazed on.

“Wha—Jack!” Sam jogged towards him, arms outstretched. “What’re you doing here?”

Jack climbed up to embrace him, letting him hold on as long as he wanted. When Sam finally released him, they both had damp eyes.

“I just felt like visiting,” Jack said, once he realized he hadn’t actually answered the question.

“Great, yeah. Yeah, this is your home. Come by any time you want.” Sam beamed. “Hey, let me grab Eileen and Dean and Cass. Miracle, too.”

“No. It’s late. I don’t want to bother everyone.”

“Jack, come on. Who cares what time it is? They’d want to see you.”

“Honestly, I was planning on just lying down in my room for a while. I didn’t expect you to walk in.”

“I was just getting a glass of water.” Sam walked to the sink, his slippers scuffing against the tiles. “How about the two of us catch up, then? Is everything okay? You know, I think about you all the time. Wonder how you’re doing. Cass tells us stuff, but it’s not the same as when you were here.”

“Heaven’s doing well. We’re making progress with all the changes I wanted to implement. And it’s nice to spend so much time with my mom.”

“Oh, right!” Sam scratched his chin. “Yeah, I figured you’d be able to see her whenever you wanted now.”

“How’s—” Jack paced, swiped a spot of dust from the corner of the island. “How’s the world?”

“The world? It’s okay, I guess. Same old, same old. Maybe that’s news in itself.”

Jack looked down. “Are you angry with me? For telling Cass to stop healing those people?”

Sam didn’t answer right away. He finished his water and placed his glass in the sink.

“Not angry, Jack. I might’ve made a different call, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong.”

“You know it’s not because I don’t care. It’s because putting God into the story is how Chuck started out.”

“I know. I know you care, Jack.”

“What about Dean. Is he angry?”

Sam sighed. “You know how he gets when we can’t save everyone.”

“Yeah.”

“He has Cass, though. That helps.”

Jack nodded. When he turned around from the island, Sam was still smiling.

“I think I’m going to hang out in my room now. It was nice to see you, Sam.”

“Okay,” Sam replied, with obvious disappointment.

“I’ll try to visit more often,” Jack said. “When I can.”

“Please do. Jack—” Sam walked up to him and placed his hands on his shoulders. “If you ever get lonely, or need someone to talk to? Look, I know you have your mom and Cass. But you have me, too. Always.”

Jack smiled.

“And you have Eileen. And Miracle. And Dean, even if he doesn’t always want to show it.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

They turned out the kitchen light and parted ways at Sam’s room. Jack continued down the hallway. When he reached Dean’s door, he hesitated. There was the soft electric buzz of the television on the other side; the faint rumble of his father’s voice, then a murmur from Dean in response. Jack listened for a few seconds before moving on.

His room was neater than he’d left it. The bed was made, sheets pulled tight to the corners, and his toiletries were back in the medicine cabinet instead of scattered about the vanity. Even so, all his other belongings were where he’d last set them down. His clothes were stacked in the dresser, precise squares like Sam had taught him; his books and wooden models retained their pride of place on the mounted shelves. His photograph of Kelly smiled up from the nightstand.

Jack stood at the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The lamp beside Kelly’s portrait cast the room’s only light, carving long shadows over half of his face and leaving the rest of it in darkness. It was the first time he’d seen himself since becoming God. He looked older.

“I love you.”

Right after his lips stopped moving, his eyes blinked. He felt like he was watching a complete stranger. His body remained perfectly still, waiting for something to happen. He had no idea what.

Jack switched off the lamp and crawled into bed. He lay on his back, his head cradled in his pillow, and waited. The room was pitch-black and quiet and warm, like a universe just before being born. He wondered how long he’d have to wait. How many times he’d have to say it.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”


End file.
